


now we're far apart (in and out of touch)

by Ymae



Series: Sanvers Week 2019 - What if? [2]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: (for a second time though), Alex has a daughter, Angst-ish with a Happy Ending, F/F, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, Okay so they're still broken up at the start of this, Sanvers Week, Sanvers has a daughter, What if... Sanvers got married?, What if... Sanvers had agreed on kids?, adopted kid, relationship angst, they get their shit together pretty quickly bc they're soulmates obviously, they're getting there though obviously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 10:33:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17785733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ymae/pseuds/Ymae
Summary: When Maggie's informant tells her about a friend of hers who's been killed, she's relieved to know that the friend's daughter, at least, is alive and has been adopted by a new mother.But that it had to be Alex, of all people?Maggie knows she has to pay them a visit, even and maybe especially if she hasn't seen her ex-fiancée in seven months.(Sanvers Fix-It)





	now we're far apart (in and out of touch)

“Sawyer? Are you still there?”

Maggie stands up numbly, phone pressed to her ear, and slowly walks out of the Captain’s room. Her office is made up of glass walls, and she needs privacy, she needs it now.

“Repeat what you just said, please,” she requests quietly. Entering the copy room, she leans onto the ancient printer, huffing and puffing under her shaking hands.

“The ID you reported stolen was found in the apartment of an alien who was murdered two months ago,” her informer says. “Hey, Sawyer, what’s up with you today? This is good news. That thief’s dead.”

Maggie closes her eyes and reminds herself not to crush the phone in her hand. It wouldn’t do anything to her ignorant contact man anyway. “That alien had a name.”

“You knew them?”

“She was my friend,” Maggie informs him tonelessly. “She didn’t steal that ID. She let me crash at her place for a few months after a… a bad breakup. I must’ve forgotten it there.”

“Oh, damn.” His casually apologetic voice rings in her ear. She wants to throw up. “Sorry, Sawyer. Anyway, anything else you wanted?”

Maggie stands up from where she’s been leaning on the printer and starts pacing around the room. After a split second, she reminds herself to calm and stays still next to the door. She locks it—screw the squad, she’s Captain now, she can have the copy room all to herself it that’s what she wants—and accidentally brushes the light switch.

The dusty room darkens, and Maggie exhales. This is what she needs now. Complete darkness to accompany the stale air, her closed-up throat. She’s been trying to forget her time with Angelica for so long now.

It was just after she and Alex had broken up. Angelica had been a distant friend she’d helped out occasionally, for free, of course, as she sometimes did aliens who needed to defy the law for good reasons. Angelica was— _had been_ —from a distant star, a tiny planet an asteroid had threatened to collide with. Angelica’s pregnant mother had managed to escape to Earth but died from a sickness unknown to her kind when Angelica was a teen. 

Nonetheless, Angelica had grown up kind, caring, and open-hearted. She used to frequent the alien bar just after Maggie had moved to National City, and she still doesn’t know why they’d clicked—so opposite of each other, personality wise. They’d never hooked up, though, and Angelica had been one of the few friends Maggie had had that wasn’t an ex. A few years before she’d met Alex, Angelica had disappeared from the bar, and only called Maggie when she needed help. Which, considering how friendly and gentle Angelica was, Maggie had done with pleasure. NCPD Science Division was one of the only departments where it was an open secret that you could get away with not arresting people sometimes, because it was so tiny, and because aliens were an underground minority that could do with a little help once in a while.

“One sec,” Maggie says just as she’s sure her informant is about to hang up. “How’d she die?”

She can just hear the shrug at the other end of the line, and has to remind herself how important her human contacts are for the work she does. Anyway, she has enough dirt on that guy, and one day she  _will_ throw his unsympathetic ass in jail. 

“How they all do these days,” he says, and actually does sound kind of apologetic. “The Children of Liberty got her address. Supergirl and the feds arrived a few minutes after that, it was too late, though.” 

_Supergirl and the feds._ Maggie’s eyes sting. And of course, she’d cry not because she’d just learned that her kind, sweet friend had died, but because Alex is mentioned one too many times. 

It’s been seven months. She’s forced herself to stop counting the days, but there’s nothing that can erase the searing pain in her chest every time she looks at the date and another month has passed.

“You alright, Sawyer? Need anything else?”

And suddenly Maggie wants to slap herself, or at least brush those traitorous tears from her face, selfish, selfish tears.

_Kiera._

“The alien had a kid,” she says, her voice sharp like taut wire. “Kiera. She’s eight years old. Did she…” Maggie’s breaths get stuck in her throat, the tears running harder and hotter down her cheeks. She’d _loved_ that kid. Her daughter had been the reason Angelica had called all those favors in for, and Maggie had hidden them from the law more carefully and skillfully than anyone ever before. It’d been several kicks to the gut, every second, living in Angelica’s apartment those two months after she and Alex had broken up, seeing Kiera bouncing through the rooms with that glowing smile and those serious eyes. Kiera’s presence had burned Maggie’s skin with its light, because her relationship with Alex, her _engagement,_ hell, had come apart because she didn’t want children, and here was this girl, and suddenly Maggie could imagine—suddenly she could see herself—

She breaks off the thought because the memories of both Kiera and Alex  _hurt,_ and she can’t take it. Being with Alex had cracked her walls clean open, and as much of a relief it had been finally seeing the light, she’s vulnerable now, soft and translucent. Even their breakup couldn’t get her walls back up, couldn’t get those bad habits back under her skin. 

Maggie Sawyer’s coping technique used to be drinking and sex, and she’d had little of the former and none of the latter in the past seven months. She blames Alex. She blames her  _so much,_ and she misses her even more, and she  _hates_ how soft she now is, because Kiera—

“Did she die too?”

“Nah,” her informant declares. “That was actually a weird thing about that case. There was a human child who claimed that that alien was her mother, insane, right? But she was at school when those terrorists came.”

“That alien _was_ her mom,” Maggie says numbly. “She found her on the streets. They were crazy close.” Someone knocks on the door, but she ignores them. “Where’s she at now?” 

Her contact guy sounds genuinely delighted when he speaks, and maybe Maggie won’t arrest him after all. “Oh, she was adopted. Someone must’ve fought tooth and nails for her, because she wasn’t even in the system for a day. You wanna see her? I got the new mommy’s name.”

Warmth spreads in Maggie’s chest, blooming along the stinging concern. She needs to reassure herself that Kiera is safe, for Angelica’s sake. No child of an alien is safe these days, not with those bigoted bastards out for blood, and for an instant adoption, someone must’ve pulled a lot of strings. Someone with  _power._ That can’t be good. 

“Tell me,” she demands. “Tell me her name.”

“Sure.” The pounding on the door gets louder, along with Maggie’s heartbeat. “It sounds kinda familiar to me, maybe you’ve mentioned her before.” Maggie’s hands shake from an anxiousness she can’t place. “She’s a fed, incidentally. Real big name. Director Alex Danvers.”

 

* * *

 

“ _I’ll pick you up at midnight_

_We’ll run to beat the sunlight_

_We only get the one life_

_And I wanna feel your heartlines…”_

 

Kiera sits at the breakfast table, her bare feet dangling just over the floor. Her blue hair bobs to the rhythm of the song, her eyes closed, her mouth chewing on the last of her marmalade toast.

“Mommy always played this every midnight at New Year’s Eve,” she announces when the last notes of the song fade out. “And when I couldn’t sleep well. And when she was happy. She said that she had it playing on her phone when she found me.”

“You haven’t told me that before,” Alex says gently, sitting down next to Kiera on the table. She reaches out and brushes a strand of the girl’s thin dyed hair behind her ears. Kiera closes her eyes for a second, reveling in the soft touch, and as always, it makes Alex’s heart go to places that are so loving and sad she can’t place a name to them. “Does it make you happy or sad when I play that song?”

“Happy,” Kiera answers, her bright dark eyes open again, looking at Alex, twinkling despite the memories. “It means Mommy is here, and she likes you. She likes that I’m here with you.”

Alex nods, subtly pressing a hand to her eyes so she won’t cry in front of her daughter. In front of Kiera.

It’s so easy to call this girl hers, to love her, and yet she’s always so uncertain about how much of that is the love Kiera needs and how much of it is too much, would be too much for Angelica. None of her books tell her what’s honoring Kiera’s mother’s memory and what’s rewriting it. She’s had endless talks with J’onn about it, who’s had to struggle with much of the same problem in multiple ways, with his own lost daughters and Alex and Kara, his found ones. But at the end of the day, when she comes home to Kiera, it’s always clear that that girl knows very well herself how much love she needs and how she needs to get it.

“I like that I’m here with you, too.” Alex wraps an arm around Kiera’s thin frame, and the girl holds on for dear life, burying her head into Alex’s shirt. Eventually, she lets go, beaming, and asks to have the song play again.

“Mommy’s species had musical memory,” Kiera mumbles, half wrapped up in the song again. “She could remember any song and its name just because of one word or one tone. I wanna do that too.”

“You’re already halfway to a musical genius,” Alex promises. “Your guitar lessons start next Tuesday, remember? Here, I’ll make you some more toast.”

“Yeah, I’m super hungry.” Kiera smiles, proud. “Super, like Kara, right? She’s always hungry too.”

Alex laughs, glancing at the clock. Good thing it’s Saturday because it’s almost midday and they haven’t even finished breakfast yet. She throws some more bread into the toaster and is just about to take the marmalade out of the fridge when the doorbell rings.

“Kara? Come in,” she calls.

“I don’t think it’s Kara,” Kiera whispers, shrinking back on her chair. “She’d fly in from the window on Saturdays.”

“Hey, baby, it’s okay,” Alex promises, dropping a quick kiss on Kiera’s head. “I’ll go look. We don’t even have to open the door.”

“And you have the gun?” Kiera asks quietly, afraid.

“I do have my gun,” Alex reassures her, her heart dropping heavily to the bottom of her stomach.

If ever she’d hated the Children of Liberty before, now they make her want to set the world on fire. Sure, she wouldn’t have gotten Kiera if not for the death of her mother; but even thinking that makes her sick. Every kid deserves a safe childhood, with a happy, loving,  _alive_ family. It’s what she’s trying to build for Kiera. 

Alex peers through the spyhole, her whole body tense.

Immediately she lets out a gasp, bolting away from the door as though she’d been burned, absurdly clutching her gun even tighter.

“Mom!” Kiera jumps from her chair, blue hair whipping across the table. Alex is frozen on the spot, her mind getting whiplash from the rapid collision of her life from a few months ago and her life now. Her heart is pounding so fast, too fast. A ghost is standing in front of the door, a ghost that’s fresh enough that she _hurts, hurts,_ and her daughter had just called her _Mom,_ and no, no, she can’t do this, the first thing she has to do is soothe Kiera. 

“Sweetie,” she says, turning her back to the door even though it makes her stomach turn with impatience. “Kiera, look at me. Come here.” She takes her into her arms. “There’s no one dangerous out there. Just the woman I told you about, the one I wanted to marry? We haven’t been in touch in a long time, and seeing her startled me.”

Kiera nods, and Alex feels terrible for scaring her, so she holds her tight, and forces herself not to flinch when the doorbell rings again.

Alex steps up to the door carefully, Kiera glued to her hand. She briefly considers not letting Maggie in— _Maggie, Maggie,_ who’s heartbeat is still a part of her own, quietly, hurting. She wants to see her more than almost anything in the world, but she needs not to be selfish. Kiera can’t use her new mother falling apart now. 

“Alex?” Maggie shouts, her voice coming through the door a little muffled, but the concern still clear as day. And it’s Maggie’s _voice,_ so familiar Alex wants to cry. She opens the door, because she’s selfish, and because standing there is so much more than just _the one I wanted to marry._

It’s  _Maggie._ Her hair a little darker, a little more grown out, with a badge on her belt that spells out  _Captain_ like a slap in the face, because of course she is. 

“Mags?” Alex croaks, her voice crumbling around the word.

She looks at her, and she’s so  _beautiful,_ and Alex sizzles with  _want,_ all she wants to do right here and now is simply to—

“I didn’t come here for you,” Maggie says, and her face falls along with Alex’s the second the words leave her mouth.

“Maggie?” Kiera leans forward, frowning, and then her face lights up, and she hugs Maggie’s waist, her right hand keeping hold of Alex’s, holding on tightly even as her face relaxes.

“Kiera, sweetie,” Maggie says, returning the hug. Her face is soft, and downcast, avoiding Alex at all costs. “How’re you holding up?”

Kiera’s face scrunches up. “I’m going to get guitar lessons soon,” she explains. “I missed you! I liked it when you lived with us, but Mommy said you thought I didn’t and I didn’t get to tell you that I liked it because you were gone.”

“I’m really sorry about that,” Maggie says softly. Alex can’t help but notice that her eyes are dark and sad. So she knows what happened to Angelica. The pieces of the puzzle haven’t quite fallen into place for Alex, but they’re starting to. “I really loved living with you, too.”

Kiera nods, bouncing up and down, the smile back on her face.

“Do you want to invite me in, sweetie?” Maggie asks, and it hits Alex unexpectedly hard. Yes, of course, there’s a huge difference in tone when Maggie speaks to Kiera, but still, this is the same voice. The same voice who would call Alex all those nicknames more naturally with every piece of understanding they’d gain of each other. That time, that life, it isn’t so far behind. Alex remembers _everything._ The thousands of nicknames, and how in the end, they’d all boil down to two. _Babe_ when Maggie was upset and _sweetie_ when it was Alex. 

It’s so unfair because technically, it was Alex who broke it all apart, and she _knows_ how fucked up it would be to expect Maggie to still care about her. But this indifference, this hurts. Alex brushes a hand over her eyes, but she can’t wipe away the heat stinging in her throat. 

Kiera is already leading Maggie in. “This is our apartment,” she says earnestly, and suddenly Alex feels bubbly and soft again. She’s torn. And she decides to, right now, concentrate on Kiera, on being a mom to her, grounded and good and in the moment. She’s known her for barely two months. She’s risked everything for her, her job at the DEO, her reputation, her sanity, her health, and every little ounce of energy spent on keeping her has already paid back tenfold.

“I sleep in this bed with Alex. We were gonna put up walls in the living room to make an own room for me, but I don’t want to yet. This is where we eat.”

Maggie nods like she doesn’t know this. 

Kiera spins around, letting go of Alex’s hand.  _Heartlines_ is still playing quietly in the background. 

 

“ _And I wanna feel your heartlines_

_I wanna feel your heart_

_Now we’re far apart, in and out of touch_

_and the words don’t mean as much”_

 

Kiera looks at Alex sideways, her dark eyes searching for something unknown. Then she smiles one of her more quiet smiles, and says, “I want to eat that toast.”

“Sure,” Alex agrees softly. That adrenaline rush of having someone who isn’t Kara or J’onn or Nia knocking on their door—all of which Kiera has already taken a shine to—that rush of panic had already made their Saturday morning a bit rockier than Alex would prefer. “I’ll sit with you, Kiera,” she offers. “No one comes between the Danvers and their breakfast, right?”

“Right. You should still talk with Maggie.” Kiera tilts her head, a hint of indignation shining in her eyes. “You didn’t say _she_ was the woman you were gonna marry.” 

“I didn’t know you knew her, sweetie,” Alex explains, glancing at Maggie from the corners of her eyes. “We’ll be right here, okay? Just say if you need anything.”

“I will.” Kiera’s already up on the counter, messily preparing her toast. Sneaky kid. They’d established that sitting on the counter was an unhygienic no-go. Well, Alex won’t argue in front of Maggie, especially seeing they’d already done much more… _unhygienic…_ things on that kitchen counter. 

“Privacy,” Maggie reminds her when Alex is turned around, her eyes darting through the room, not meeting Alex’s. Of course not. “We can sit… uh, on the bed?”

Alex doesn’t think it’s Maggie’s brightest idea yet, but she needs to get this over with, get it over with now, because the woman she loves— _loved,_ of course, they’re not anything to each other—is here, in their once shared apartment, but she isn’t here for Alex. And if Alex thinks a bit too hard about that, it just might break her. 

So they settle on the bed. Head leaned against the wall, uncomfortable, facing each other awkwardly. The silence presses down on them heavily, muting Alex’s words. Her needy, needy want.

 

* * *

 

Alex is so  _goddamn_ beautiful. 

It’s entirely unprofessional, especially considering what Maggie had said, the words she still sees reflected in the hurt in Alex’s eyes like frozen tears. Alex looks a little different now, with that very fancy very lesbian haircut, but still, it’s like time is standing still, and all Maggie wants to do is lean into her and kiss the sadness off her face and tickle out the gentleness Alex used to regard her with.

It’s why she can’t fucking look at her. Because the urge to kiss her is so strong, has always been, and it’s been multiplied by seven months of missing and seven months of regrets and seven months of anger and frustration and seven months of a love that Maggie can’t get out of her head.

“You’re Director now,” is, through all the words she means to say, the only thing she does.

Alex nods. Maggie can feel her eyes on her, can practically taste the hurt and confusion radiating off Alex’s skin.

“Technically. I’m being watched by one of the President’s minions though. She’s taken over the DEO and released Kara from duty. It’s pretty bad. Anyway.” Alex clears her throat. “You’re Captain now.”

“Science Division is tiny,” Maggie says. “People are scared and leaving because of those Children of Liberty. I was the only competent Detective left.”

Suddenly the air changes, charges with Alex’s sizzling anger. Of course, the Children of Liberty would be a sensitive topic. And of course, Maggie just had to mention them. Because they aren’t the very reason Alex is suddenly a mom, suddenly has this tiny blue-haired girl sitting in her kitchen.

Maybe they need to finally cut the crap and talk.

About Kiera, of course.

The reason Maggie’s come here.

So she gets her shit together and tells Alex about Angelica, about how she’d been the friend who’d taken her in. And Alex responds with a story about how they’d arrived at the apartment to a dead body, and a little girl standing outside the door of the house because she’d forgotten her keys and couldn’t get in. A little girl who’d immediately latched onto Alex, Alex who’d held her tight and vowed never to let go.

And Maggie bites down a comment about how  _never letting go_ doesn’t mean as much to Alex as she makes it out to be, does it? Because Kiera is here, and safe, and she seems happy. And Maggie knows that she is loved. Because once someone has gotten to hold a piece of Alex’s heart, she’ll protect them over all the dead bodies in the world, and she’ll love them even more fiercely. 

They fall silent after that. Maggie stares at the wall beside her, sick and tired of this, of hearing Alex’s voice and breathing in her smell and longing for her  _so badly_ when it’s clear Alex has moved on. When it’s clear Alex doesn’t want her back, just wants her to disappear so she can be with her daughter. 

“Are you crying?” It’s Kiera’s voice. Maggie closes her eyes and feels the bed dip under the girl’s weight as she climbs up to Alex. And she understands why Alex has moved on. It’s obvious. That girl right here is _so_ bright, so starlike, even Maggie has fallen in love with her. 

“A little, baby,” Alex answers, and now Maggie hears the sniffling, the heartbreaking sounds of Alex crying, and she hates it. If she looks at her, all she’ll want to do is kiss her tears away and wrap her up and tell her she’s the best person she knows. Looking at Alex is possibly the absolute worst idea of her life.

She looks at Alex. And thankfully, the image of her is blurry at the edges. The tiny girl, her arms slung around Alex.

“Maggie,” Kiera whispers. “You’re crying too.”

“Oh, is she?” Maggie hears Alex say quietly, and yes, she’s crying, she’s full on sobbing. There’s something in her that wants _this_ so much. Alex and a ring on her finger and Kiera in their arms. She could never imagine being a mom, being a parent to the concept of this tiny ass baby and then the giddy toddler and the silly preschooler. But Alex had said _it’s not some notion,_ and suddenly Maggie understands how for her, it wasn’t. 

And suddenly, she understands how this, this  _isn’t_ some concept. This is  _Alex,_ and this is  _love._ Maggie had learned a long time ago that not compromising who she is for  _anyone_ is the most important part of survival. But recalibrating what she wants when it’s right in front of her might just be the most important part of happiness. 

Technically, Alex is the one who’d broken up, so by the rules, she should be the one to apologize and beg to be heard. But they aren’t some straight couple, and this isn’t a competition. This is  _them._ This is  _Alex._

Maggie’s too tired to ask herself what that means. So when Kiera wraps her other arm around her neck, and when Alex inches closer, almost close enough for their tears to mingle as they drip from their faces, Maggie doesn’t flinch. She relaxes into the sheets and tiredly meets Alex’s soft, soft eyes before her own drop shut.

 

* * *

 

Maggie wakes up to a room flooded with sunlight.

She squints against it even though the window seems miles away from the raised corner where the bed stands. The sunlight catches the speckles of dust on every surface, the new stains on the couch and the half-eaten marmalade toast on the kitchen counter. The lived-in apartment.

Maggie turns around sleepily in her bed. She suddenly notices she’s got all of the soft blanket wrapped around herself. The woman lying next to her, eyes blinking open sluggishly, is completely exposed to the cool air. Alex is wearing jeans and a t-shirt, though, so they must’ve fallen asleep right after coming home. Probably a rough day at work. 

Well, no one says they can’t have a good one today. What day is it? It must be Saturday, because there’s been no alarm to wake them up.

Maggie’s fuzzy brain keeps her eyes straight locked onto Alex like she hasn’t just seen her before she’s fallen asleep, and looking at Alex makes her want to kiss her. Alex is waking up anyway, her short hair fanned out on the pillow, so Maggie leans over and places a slow kiss on her lips.

Alex’s eyes flutter open, and she kisses back softly, reveling in the casual gentleness. Their hands entwine on the sheets, comfortable, warm, connected.

Then Alex’s gaze suddenly focuses, and her eyes meet Maggie’s. They both snatch away their hands hurriedly enough to tear skin would they be any less familiar with touch. It feels like such a loss Maggie’s half-asleep mind seriously considers placing it over the breakup on her mental list.

“Fuck, Mags,” Alex says, but paired with the nickname it just sounds couple-y and familiar, and—and it’s the exact cold fucking shower Maggie’s head needed.

“I’m so sorry, babe,” she says hastily, and god no. “Alex. Alex, I’m really sorry. I didn’t—I wasn’t aware. I would _never,_ you have to believe me.” 

“Yeah,” Alex reassures her, and then, shaking her head lightly, “yeah, of course, Maggie, I’m really sorry too. I mean, not that I would _ever_ assume you’d kiss me _on purpose._ Or look me in the eyes, or talk to me _for me._ I’m really _sorry._ ”

“I didn’t mean to—” There’s a dangerous wetness to Alex’s eyes. Maggie can’t have her crying, not just after they’d kissed, after they’d held hands. The floodgates would completely break open. And apparently, Alex can’t have that either.

“I can’t do this,” she says, shaking her head as she tries to push herself up from the mattress. “I can’t do this.”

She doesn’t actually get up, though.

Maggie stares. Alex sighs heavily.

“Kiera’s lying on my arm,” she whispers, closing her eyes as if in pain. “She’s been sleeping so badly lately… okay, always… understandably, of course; I really want to—“

“It’s okay,” Maggie reassures her. She can’t even see Kiera from where she’s lying, just strands of blue hair sticking to the pillow beside Alex, and a second, smaller, blanket heaped up on the bed. “I’ll just go.” _This was a mistake anyway, I just wanted to make sure Kiera’s okay,_ is what she wants to say next, but she thinks of the sound of Alex crying, and the way her face scrunches up from her mouth to her forehead and her eyes, and how her whole body shakes like she’s so cold, and Maggie can’t say the words. Because what she _means_ by _mistake_ is _I have no fucking self-control, and it won’t do you or our relationship any good,_ but all Alex hears is, _Maggie doesn’t want to stay because I’m not good enough and she hates me,_ and that’s not something Maggie wants her to think, ever, even when they’re broken up and angry and bitter and when the world is ending. 

So she doesn’t say it, and Alex doesn’t hear  _Maggie hates me,_ so she calls her back. “Stay.” 

Maggie looks at her with a thousand questions in her eyes.

“I just—” Alex looks so tired. Did she look so tired when she opened up her door? She must have, because all they’d done since is talk and sleep. “I just—” She’s blushing now, it’s too cute. “I think we should talk. _Really_ talk. About us.” 

“Probably,” Maggie agrees.

“So will you…” Alex gestures weakly with her one free hand. It’s too cute. “Lay back down? It’s kind of awkward this way.”

“Sure thing, Danvers,” Maggie replies, because she’s weak and Alex is cute, and no, this is not a good start to anything, but it’s the truth. That has to count for something.

She sinks back down into the pillow, carefully draws the blanket back over herself. She thinks about offering half of it to Alex, who looks like she’s freezing, but the implications would be too complex for either of them to understand, so Maggie decides to punish herself by watching Alex tremble without being able to do anything. She doesn’t know what to do with her hands, though, because they keep ending up somewhere that’s far too close to Alex. They’ve tasted her touch and want  _more._ Maggie can’t even blame them. 

Alex stares at her, her own fingers twitching, and Maggie doesn’t know what it means.

“Are you mad at me for adopting Kiera?” she whispers. Maggie shakes her head.

“God, no, Danv—Alex… I—what should I call you?”

Alex looks at her with sad, sad eyes. They should be married by now. Maggie should have a thousand things to call her and a thousand happy emotions to go with them. She should be able to say, teasingly, of course, because it’s just too sappy,  _so, what do you wanna do today, my beautiful wife?_ She should be able to say,  _your mama’s still asleep, kiddo, but let’s make some breakfast for when she wakes up?_

No. No, she should not be able to say that. That’s what  _Alex_ wanted. That particular flavor of normalcy has always tasted so bitter to Maggie, when to Alex it’s been a hunger she couldn’t bury. 

Maggie is so  _fucking_ tired of them being like this. They should be able to talk. They always have. That’s what’s kept them upright and happy all these times, and it’s what’s been their downfall, too. Not that silence doesn’t crumble a relationship much the same way. It just does it quieter, more slowly. If they hadn’t talked, they probably couldn’t have drunken that wedding gift tequila and danced in their living room. They’d probably have had to file a divorce and make their breakup so much more impersonal than it was. 

All that divorce crap was why Maggie never wanted to get married, until she met Alex and thought that would never be a part of  _their_ marriage. 

Maggie’s been trying to rebound for seven months now, and she’s sure she’ll never marry anyone else. Relationships, yes, but she wouldn’t be able to stand another  _Marry me? Seriously, marry me, please._

“I don’t know what to say,” Alex admits when the silence stretches out thinly, brokenly. “I thought we were good at this, but I think that only applied to when we were together. I don’t know what to say when I know… when I know… there won’t be a fucking _kiss_ at the end, Mags. I look at you, and I just want to kiss you again.”

“Well, why don’t you,” Maggie whispers. Alex’s eyes widen.

“Because this can’t be, Maggie,” she says in a hushed voice. Her daughter is still sleeping next to her, after all. Her arm must be positively numb by now. “I want this. I want you in this bed, but I want Kiera, too, and you don’t. I mean, you don’t want kids. I do. I _have_ a daughter. It’s more impossible than ever, Maggie, you and me, and… and… why aren’t you talking to me? Did I… did I do something wrong?” 

“You didn’t,” Maggie interrupts her. “It’s just…” She hesitates, hesitates to bare her soul like this, to get in way deeper than she’d ever intended to. Then she looks in Alex’s waiting eyes and doesn’t, anymore. “I want _you._ I’ve always said that. You _made_ me be open about that. But I did come here because of Kiera, initially. I heard about Angelica and, I don’t know, before I found out she’s living with you I… I _genuinely_ considered getting to her for a moment. You know, save her from an awful situation, adopt her, learn how to do the whole mom thing. And then when I found out… you’re the best thing that could’ve happened to her, Alex. I just wanted to make sure she knew that, too.” Maggie takes a deep breath, closing her eyes. “And then I saw you, and I guess my mission changed. Now I want to make sure _you_ know it.” 

“What does that mean?” Alex asks when Maggie opens her eyes again.

“That you’re amazing, Alex,” Maggie says helplessly. “And that I want to kiss you too, _all_ the time. You probably noticed that earlier, but—”

“I did.” For the first time since yesterday, Alex actually smirks, her eyes twinkling. “But we can’t do anything before we’re on the same level. We’ve done that before, and it _never_ worked out.” Her face grows serious, almost pleading. “For now, can I… can we hold hands again?” 

She slides her hand carefully across the mattress, and Maggie reaches out and snatches it, takes it into her own hands.

“So you want… us,” Alex clarifies after a while. “But are you ready for _this_? For Kiera? For… for a _life_?”

“For getting to know each other again?” Maggie adds.

“For being sniffed out to death by Kara?”

“For facing J’onn?”

“For learning about the fact that Lena and James are dating and Winn went to the future, and Mon-El was alive but is gone now too, and we have a couple of new friends, like Nia and Brainy?”

Maggie frowns. “What?”

“Never mind.”

“For having a lot more firsts to go,” Maggie says.

“For dedicating a lot of our time to my—or _our,_ I don’t fucking know—traumatized kid.” 

“For being the second and third mom or the hundreds crazy aunt or whatever,” Maggie adds.

“For bringing bad guys down together again.”

“For playing pool and you _never_ giving me that grenade you owe me.” 

“First, I don’t owe you anything, second, never. For… me apologizing because I should’ve talked to you about the kid stuff sooner.”

“For me saying sorry because I should’ve, too.”

“For being with each other… for real,” Alex says quietly.

“For talking to each other about the bad stuff and the good stuff and the stuff in between.”

“For…” Alex hesitates, squeezing Maggie’s fingers unconsciously.

“I love you,” Maggie whispers, soft eyes on Alex.

“I love you,” Alex replies. There’s a tear making its way across her cheek, and Maggie wants to kiss it away, but her heart is pounding hard enough from their words anyway, it probably wouldn’t be able to take any more of this… of _this._

“How did you know that _love_ was what I was going to say?” 

“I didn’t,” Maggie insists. “I just really needed to say it.”

Alex leans forward, her eyes fixed on Maggie, and only closes them when their lips meet. Maggie inches closer, wrapping an arm around her, her fingers soaking up the heat of Alex’s skin like it’s water and she’s parched earth.

“I _want_ this,” Maggie whispers into Alex’s lips. 

“Forever,” Alex promises, and maybe it’s too soon for most, a rush of a morning after seven months of not writing, not talking, not touching, but not for them. Because yes, it’s been seven months of virtually no contact, but it’s been seven months of a love so visceral it lined every week with longing, too. A love that, once found again, flames up like a starved wildfire.

_I love you back, but—_ becomes  _and I love you. Forever,_ again. 

 

* * *

 

“You’re sure Mama is home, sweetie?” Maggie asks nervously. “You’re sure she isn’t working? Or sad? Or that she’s noticed I’m not on duty today? Or that I took something from our drawer—”

“Really sure,” Kiera answers, giggling. Maggie looks at her for a moment and is so proud of how happy she seems. Of how sure of herself and the world. Those past six months, there’s been a lot of setbacks along with all the progress.

Maggie is just happy how quickly Kiera has accepted her, and how  _I like living with you_ has become  _I love you, Mom._ And even though she’s still freaked out about that occasionally, it helps to see how giddy and incoherent Alex still becomes about it, too. 

Alex, Alex. Maggie’s heart pounds. This should  _not_ be hard. This should be harder. This should be impossible. This should be obvious. This should be—this fucking  _is._ This is  _fucking_ going to be. 

“I’m gonna go to Kara’s now,” Kiera says.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

“I _love_ Kara.” 

“You know what I mean!” Maggie declares dramatically. “What I’m gonna ask Mama, I mean.”

Kiera side-eyes her like she’s crazy, and maybe she is.

Crazy nervous. And crazy in love.

 

* * *

 

“And you’re _positive_ your Mom is on her way home, baby?” Alex asks Kiera’s face on the phone screen. Her daughter shakes her head exasperatedly, her blue hair swishing around her shoulders. 

When she’d come to Alex, alone, just having lost her mommy, the first thing she’d wanted to do is dye her hair. Angelica’s species had had naturally blue hair, and Kiera’s been dyeing hers blue ever since. It’s a piece of her mommy she can keep with her, and it makes Alex happy that her daughter is comfortable telling her that. Comfortable having her mommy and her mama and her mom.

Okay, it’s a mess, but a good one. A happy one.

“Yeah, Mama,” Kiera sighs. “You do have everything prepared, right? Kara’s super excited for you. You can’t back out now, or she’s gonna throw both of you into the sun.”

“Thank you, Kiera,” Alex answers. Maybe she should consider advising Kiera against sleeping over at her aunt’s house quite this much. Kara is _clearly_ rubbing off on her, and if it’s in a good way, Alex isn’t sure. 

But her daughter is happy, Kara is happy, J’onn is  _so_ happy, and Maggie is—

Maggie.  _Maggie._ Alex’s hands shake so badly she almost drops the phone. 

“Good luck, Mama,” Kiera says, winking. Now _that,_ she’s definitely picked up from her Mom. Although Maggie insists it’s Alex who’s taught her that. Hm. _Unlikely._

“Thank you, baby.”

Kiera rolls her eyes. “I’m gonna hang up now. I’m at Kara’s. Bye!”

“I love you!” Alex says.

“Love you too, Mama!”

The screen goes black.

Alex sits on the edge of the bed, waiting.

 

* * *

 

“Alex!” Maggie opens the door, shouting into the empty apartment. “You there?”

“Mags!” Alex steps up from where she’d been lying on their bed, giving Maggie a quick kiss. “How was your day?”

“Great,” Maggie says nervously. She feels around in her jeans pocket. The ring is still there. _Good._ She breathes a quiet sigh of relief. 

Alex’s fingers twist around each other. She seems nervous. What if this isn’t the right time? What if—

Fucking hell. Maggie’s made a promise to her daughter, and she’s damn well going to keep it.

“You wanna—” Alex’s voice trembles. “Sit on the bed?”

“Sure.”

They cross the room silently, their hands casually touching.

They sit on the bed, and then slide up to the wall, their heads leaned against it, facing each other.

“Maggie,” Alex says quietly. “I wanted to… uh, I wanted—”

“Marry me,” Maggie blurts. She touches her fingers to her mouth, startled at her straightforwardness. Alex’s mouth opens, and she doesn’t react for several seconds.

“I mean.” Maggie’s hands start to shake, her eyes flitting through the room. “I mean, I love you so much, Alex, _so much,_ and I know the last time didn’t work out for us, but I wanted to ask if you still wanted that. I mean. The house, and maybe the dog, and with Kiera, and… if you wanna be my wife. I just wanted to ask that. I—”

“Did Kiera set you up to this?” Alex interrupts her. Maggie frowns.

“Uh, kinda? I mean, she did say today would be a good day. Is that—”

Alex stops her with a squeeze of her fingers. “’Cause, I wanted to ask you the same thing.” She takes a deep breath. “Maggie Sawyer, do you want to marry me?”

Tears escape Maggie’s eyes, flowing freely down her cheeks. They reflect on Alex’s face, her look happy and disbelieving both.

“Alex Danvers, do you want to marry me?”

“I do.”

“I do.”

“I love you.”

“I _love_ you.”

“Forever.”

And now they both lean forward, sliding the rings on their fingers. They’re not new, but barely used. They’re heavy, but filled with love. They’ve been abandoned before, but they’re better now, even more open, even better at communicating, even lovelier, even more in love. It’s not about the rings anymore.

Maggie and Alex meet in the middle, meet in a kiss.

They both hear the buzzing of their phones. It’s got to be Kiera, asking if they’re done yet. Their brave, beautiful girl, playing tricks and bringing them both even closer together.

Maggie and Alex kiss. They’re home.

**Author's Note:**

> The lyrics (and title) are from "Heartlines" by Broods.  
> I hope you enjoyed! I'd love to know what you think :)


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